apple of dirt
by cornwallace
Summary: long gone are the days of our youth, the days when our eyes filled with wonder instead of despair.
1. when the sun kisses the water goodnight,

"I like it when the sun kisses the water," Amy says, almost in a daze. Her feet skim the water, dangling off the dock she sits on. Her mouth agape, tongue curled with the tip resting against her back tooth, her jaw rotating in an exaggerated chewing motion.  
Dimming sunlight and its reflection splashed against her curious expression.

"That so?" Tails is in a daze of his own. Behind her, he lay as small as he can in the safety and comfort of her shadow. Needing no view from the plane he currently occupies, his eyes resting back in his brain where he reckons they belong. The cool breeze tugs at his fur as he lay on his back with his hands on his chest – coffin like – only his chest moves his hands up and down with his breathing. "What fer?"

"It's like it's kissin' the world goodnight," she says, sighing dramatically. "Leavin' us all to our own devices fer bedtime. It's a nice thought. It's also purdy."

"I reckon."

"The sky is like this big purdy paintin', innit?"

"I reckon."

"It's like this big old beautiful picture of somethin' you feel like you could just reach out and touch, but you can't."

Tails opens his eyes and studies the clouds above him for a moment before responding. "I can."

"Why don't you?" she asks, still awestruck by the sunset over the great lake.

"I useta," he says, pausing for a second to breathe. He closes his eyes. "But then I got tired."

"Tired?"

"Mmhm." His mouth hangs open for a moment before he speaks. "When you get tired enough even the things you love most don't seem worth it much."

"I get tired sometimes," she says, sympathetically.

"I reckon we all do."

"Sometimes I get real tired!" she says, enthusiastically.

"I reckon we all do that, too."

"Sometimes," she starts, excitedly, "I get so mad I could spit!"

"I don't reckon spittin'd help you none," he says flatly.

The breeze picks up and she hugs herself, looking down past her knees at her feet splashing the water irregularly as she kicks them back and forth. "Naw. But I could."

"I don't doubt that."

"You wouldn't!" she exclaims, throwing her arms around meaningfully as she imitates spitting. "Folks know me 'round these parts as the rootinest, tootinest spittin' machine you ever did see!"

"Nobody's ever said that, Amy."

"See, you can go on tryin' to ruin my fun again and I can just ignore everything you say and keep havin' fun, or you could, like, you know, maybe have fun for once in your life?"

"I dunno, crushin' yer dreams is purdy fun."

"Boy, you couldn't crush my dreams with a dinosaur."

"What kinda dinosaur?"

"I dunno! What's yer favorite dinosaur?"

"Don't reckon I have me a favorite dinosaur."

"Mine's the pterodactyl, because it's spelled all funny." She laughs. "It's a flappity little thing!"

"You sure are funny," he says through an almost silent groan.

She falls flat on her back, tearing the shadow away from him, her head almost touching his.

"I figured so," she says, eyes drifting along slowly along the sky with the orange clouds. She lifts her legs suddenly into the air, her skirt falling over her waistline, her feet hovering over her face. Her eyes widen as she catches herself in a daze of thought as droplets of water fall from her toes. The splash against her cheek jars her back into reality and she blinks a couple of times, dropping her feet again. "We should build a boat."

"A boat? We can fish fine from the dock."

"Nope! Not for fishin'!" She shakes her head side to side exaggeratedly. "For adventurin', fool!"

"What ya wanna go off adventurin' fer?"

"Stickin' around here all the time makes me tired."

"Adventurin' all the time'll get you tired quicker'n stickin' 'round here."

"Not all the time," she smiles. "Only often enough to keep it special."

"You don't know how big that lake is. We can't even see the end of it. You wouldn't last three days out on that lake, we'd never see you again."

"If you never saw me again, you never saw me again."

"Suits me."

"Shut up," she laughs. "No it don't."

"Don't flatter yourself. I don't even like you."

"Gee willikers," she says. The sounds and feelings of the world absorb her. The sunset, the gentle water. The trees dance and the leaves sing as the wind carries them proudly. She's a part of it - and it can be just as comforting as overwhelming at times. "If I could fly, I would fly."

"You'd get tired."

"And I'd fly anyway! I'd fly and fly and when I got too tired to fly, I'd just let the wind carry me!"

"Let the wind carry you to the ground? You could die, dependin'."

"The world would catch me," she says, opening her eyes again. "The world would catch me and keep me safe. I know it."

"The world aint as kind as you romanticizin' it, woman."

"Maybe it is, maybe it isn't. You'd never know if you didn't give it no chance."

"World's the one not givin' no chances."

"Maybe," she says, chewing her fingertips. "The world's a big and scary place but it can be just as beautiful and nice as it can sad or mean."

"You keep dreamin' so big I can't crush it with no kinda dinosaur."

She hums happily in response to this. "I will."

"Twenty years on this planet and you still think like you're four, you know that?"

"Maybe you're the one who hasn't matured," she says quietly.

He doesn't take any offense, because he knows none is meant. He just smirks and opens his eyes.  
"Havin' yer head in the clouds aint gonna keep yer feet on the ground," he says.

"I reckon that's why we're friends," she says solemnly. "We can meet each other in the middle every once in awhile and enjoy the other side of things."

"I reckon," he says.

"If I didn't have you, I wouldn't know how people like you think!"

"Mmhm."

"If you didn't have me, you wouldn't know what the world around you even felt like."

"I don't reckon I do, anyhow," he says quietly.

"Of course you do!" she says, looking up in his direction in vain. "I tell you about it all the time!"

"Hearin' aint the same as knowin'."

"I guess so," she says, her head limply turning to the side. "That makes me sad."

"What would you do if the world didn't catch you?" he asks suddenly, eyes rolling in her direction in futility.

"What do you mean?"

"If the world didn't catch you. Like if it crushed you instead of catchin' you. What then?"

She pauses, looking up again. "I'd have to find another way to fly, I guess."

"What if you couldn't...?"

"I could." She smiles. "I definitely could."

She pops up into the sitting position quickly and takes one last good look at what's left of the sun and its reflection. She smiles, feeling at home. "C'mon, boy," she says, hopping up to her feet and slipping into the sandals next to her. She sidesteps Tails and walks past him. "We'd better get back before it gets too dark.

He doesn't say anything. He just takes one last good look at the picturesque sky as he listens to his friend's fading footsteps on the dock.


	2. everyday for the rest of our lives

"Yer out here early."

"Woke up early."

"You aint nobody to wake up early," he says, cracking open the can as he sits next to her at the end of the dock and drawin' in deep.

"I been wakin' up early," she says. "Don't know why."

"'Cos you been gettin' tired early."

"I aint tired," she laughs, nudging him. "I aint tired like you!"

"You gettin' to be."

"I reckon I aint!"

"I reckon you is."

"You would," she says kicking her bare feet back and forth, splishin' the water about. "Old grumpy Tails. 'I'm rull tired so everybody's rull tired. Hey you. Why aint you tired. You should be tired. Rawr I'm Tails,'" she says in her Tails voice with an exaggerated squint.

"That's me," Tails says, followin' up a sip. "That impersonation was awful, though."

"I reckon if it hadn't been me doin' it, and I was just-a listenin', I woulda reckoned there was two of ye."

"You'd reckon a tree critter for a mermaid iffin' it told you it were."

"I knowed they existed," she says, sneering.

"They don't, ye idjit."

"Says you. You ever try smilin'? You might be surprised by the joysa life, you tried smilin' every now 'n again."

"Girl, you couldn't crush my smile with a dinosaur," he says with a wily smile.

"You aint funny, you fibber," she reckons insistently. "Iffin' you smile, go on, tell me about it. What makes you smile?"

"A cold beer makes me smile," he says, drawin' another gulp from the can.

"Nawh, that aint no smile. That's the trouble in you right there, you been reckonin' a grimace for a smile for as long as you can 'member."  
Her reasonin' stings like a red wasp, but he reckons he deserves it. He shrugs it off and sets the can down between 'em.

"Purdy sunrise," he says out of the wild blue yonder.

"Aint it?" her face a delight. "It's pink, like me. Like I could just evaporate up into them pink clouds and be a part of them forever."

"I reckon we should all be so blessed."

"Hey, Miles?"  
He turns his head to find her already lookin' up at him with them bright green eyes. She looked concerned, as she was one to be at least talkin' serious when she used his real name. "You gettin' along all right?"  
"I reckon," he says, breaking eye contact and redirectin' his eyeballs back to the colorful rise of the mornin'. "I reckon I am."  
"Y'know ya'll can talk to me anytime you want, right?"  
"I reckon so," he says.

Her eyes drop to the water, her mouth wantin' to say more but her heart reckonin' futility. A sadness warshes over her like a loomin' cloud a rain off yonder on a purdy day.

Tails drains the can and tosses it in the trash basket on the corner before abruptly standin'. "C'mon kiddo, I got a surprise for ye."

"For me?!" she looks up at him, eyes wide of a delighted confusion. "What ya'll surprisin' me fer?"

"It's a surprise."

"Ya'll surprisin' me with the reason ya'll surprisin' me?!"

"It's a surprise," he says chewin' on his cheek and nudgin' her in the back with his foot. She hops up and slips into them flip-flops quicker than greased lightnin' on the tail of a jumpin' jackrabbit. "C'mon."

She follows him into the woods and along the crick until they come along what appears only at first to be a fallen' tree - in fact it were cut down. It were cut down by none other than Miles Prower himself, he reckons as he beams proudly.

Amy cocks her head to a confused angle. "It's a log."

"I reckon it aint no ordinary log."

"You reckon?"

"I do."

"What kinda log you reckon it fer?"

"Looks like it just might be the foundations of a raft aint been cut out yet. What do you, reckon?"

Amy caint contain herself. She finds herself a hoppin' up and down before she even knowed. "You reckon?!"

"I do."

Amy just about goes limp, her body a tippin' into his as her arms cling around his torso like a hungry man's belt. "A raft!"

Tails aint quite sure what to do with that affection he given, so he just a pats her on the head. "Don't get too excited now. It's gon' be a lot of work."

"Awh!" she pushes herself off of him and regains her balance before resumin' her hoppin' dance, like a rabbit on a hot tar road. "Work I can handle!"

"You gon' get tired."

She stops out of breath. "I aint gon' get tired. Not like you old timer!"

"You gon' see you wrong."

"You gon' see! Haha."

And see they both did, after a long hard day of cuttin' and tyin' together logs they were both tired. Tails right considered teasin' her for it, but he figgered aint no sense in teasin' her for it if she aint tryina rub nothin' in.

Sun was low when they started, and it's low when they finish, clear off to the other side of the sky.

"You really reckon you upta this kinda adventure?" he says, his eyes cast over the water like a fishin' line.

"I reckon I am! I reckon I always been. Since the day I was born." Her voice is filled with a kinda lightness to it, like a leaf or a blade of grass at the mercy of a gentle summer breeze.

"I reckon I'll miss you," he says abruptly, his words cuttin' sharp.

Her smile fades for a moment as she ponders the reality of the sitcheeation before brightnin' her face up again like the sun on a cloudy day. "You could come with me!" she reckons, excited, hoppin' up and down. "Aint no missin' the feller yer on an adventure with!"

Tails is silent for a time. When he says what he says, Amy knows he means it. "I caint."

"Y-... you caint, huh?" Her smile falls again. She don't reckon no quick ponderin's gonna bring it back this time.

His eyes scannin' the docks as if he were ashamed a-what he couldn't find down there. "Caint."  
Her eyes and face muscles strainin', showin' off how visibly hurt she is by this word. He aint never seen her this hurt before, and it crushes him like a dinosaur. He smiles at the thought, through the water in his eyes.

"Why caint ye?"

"I think you know why, Amy."

"I knowed this'd come," she says, laughing bitterly and wiping her eyes on her the top a her gloved fist.

"Yeah," he sighs, broken like a busted bathtub. "I knowed it too."

"Does it really have to end like this?"

"I reckon it's part of growin' up," he says.

She shakes her head. "I don't reckon it orta be this way. I don't reckon at all."

"I reckon it's for the best," he says, turning his head away. "Go on your adventure now. Git."

"You might forget about me, Miles Prower," she sniffs, her voice warpin' like a waterlogged 2x4 under the strain and pressure of the elements, "but I aint never gonna forget about you."

"I aint gonna forget you, Amy Rose," he sniffs, rightin' himself as best he can. "Go on. Git."

They don't say nothin' after that. They don't hug or shake hands or nothin' you might think old friends like them might. Amy silently gets on the raft and unties it, and pushes herself off yonder. He keeps his eyes offa her until the paddling quiets a bit.

He turns to look. He watches her get small until she aint much more than a speck swallered by the place where the sun kisses the water tonight. He ponders what that meant to her, bitterly knowin' deep down that now he aint ever gon' figure it out. It's been a long time comin', he reckons. They both knowed this part a him would die out completely like a wounded horse starved to death because he couldn't bring himself to shoot it. It were all just a matter of time.

Miles Prower knowed he'd never see Amy Rose again, but he reckoned he'd think of her - when the sun kisses the water goodnight, everyday for the rest of our lives.


End file.
